


Blaze of Glory?

by millygal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough and Ready, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 09:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11205720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: If this is the last time, they'll damn well make it count.





	Blaze of Glory?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JJ1564](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ1564/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY jj1564 - I've been threatening to write this for ages, and I knew just the occasion to finish it for, miss jj1564's birthday! Here you go BB. Sweaty single layered boys, all the sex, and some humour too. Just the way you like it! I will see you Saturday and until then, I hope this makes you smile (and maybe squirm a bit! lol)
> 
> Thank you so much to stir_of_echoes for her last minute beta, you did a wonderful job hun and I love you forever! <3

 

“Blaze of glory.”

“Blaze of glory.”

Dean’s arms feel like he’s been bench pressing Baby, but a team of wild horses couldn’t stop him digging his fingernails into the pathetic dent they’ve made in the wall, despite the burn in his muscles and concrete dust in his eyes.

Finally, after years of half-truths and economic facts, the brothers seem to have found a way to communicate honestly and despite the thinning air in the Bunker and their impending death by dehydration and oxygen deprivation, Dean’s willing to waste a few precious moments of life if it means being able to feel Sam’s weight pressed against his back.

Locking his elbows and bracing for the sting that comes from Sam burying himself balls deep, Dean lets his head fall forward and groans out his brother’s name. “Sammy - Please.”

Sam hasn’t even bothered shoving his jeans past his hips, just popped the buttons on his fly and pulled his cock free.

As the oxygen levels drop dangerously low, Sam can feel his heart beating in the tip of his dick, and he wonders if an orgasm in thinning air does the same as wrapping a noose around your neck and pulling at the point of ejaculation.

He guesses he’s about to find out.

There’s no need for whispered words of warning or asking if Dean’s ready because Dean is always ready.

Death and destruction have never dampened Dean’s libido; Sam doesn’t expect that’s changed in the last ten seconds.

Dean can feel Sam moving into position behind him, and he’s half tempted to make as much noise as humanly possible, just to see the look on Lady Likes-To-Fight’s face. The idea of Toni catching them mid-fuck makes Dean’s toes curl in his boots, and he grinds his teeth to stop from moaning too loudly.

The thought of being seen by Her Snottiness is one thing, but Dean imagines Sam’s heart would give out if she actually walked into the basement right now, so he does his level best not to let loose the howl, he can feel building in his chest.

Sam rakes his nails down Dean’s back through his sweat-soaked tee before landing a hard slap against his brother’s ass, which is waggling in the air, daring Sam to just get the fuck on with it.

Dean hisses and flexes his fingers, causing flakes of concrete to come loose and drift into his eyes, coating his lashes and cheeks and making it hard for him to see in the already dim light of the basement. “Bastard.”

Sam’s done playing, despite the way his bright-red handprint on Dean’s pert pink ass is making his cock weep and twitch.

Gripping the base of his shaft, Sam slides the tip of his cock along Dean’s cleft as he digs his fingers into his brother’s hip. “Coming.”

“That was quick.”

“Shut up!” On _up_ Sam slams himself home. No gentle shallow thrusts just one quick shunt, and he’s encased in Dean’s grasping heat, and his balls instantly start to tingle because there is _nothing_ quite like the feel of Dean’s tight ass gripping him like a thousand-pound vice.

Dean grunts and punches the wall, trying to distract from the sting of being stretched so wide so fast, and is thankful as hell that Sam knows when to move and when to still. His brother may not be the gentlest of souls when it comes to a short sharp fuck in a dank dingy basement, but he does understand Dean’s need for a moment to breathe through the intrusion.

It doesn’t take long for the pain to subside and an urgent need for friction to kick in, so Dean begins to pull off of Sam’s cock - still buried up to the base and pulsing inside him - and Dean can’t help the spurt of pre-come snaking down the inside of his thigh.

The sounds Sam’s making as Dean slowly but surely inches off of him are nothing short of pornographic, and in all his brother’s very vocal enjoyment, Dean wonders if he realises how loud he’s being.

Listening carefully for anything other than Sam’s breathy moans, Dean’s ears pick up the smallest gasp coming from somewhere outside the basement, and he smirks to himself because ten to fucking one Lady Toni is having herself some serious palpitations standing at the top of those stairs.

Sam’s not _not_ moving because Dean’s intent on doing all the work, or because he wants Dean to feel comfortable, he’s **not** moving because the simplest shift will cause him to shoot his load and the picture Dean’s creating right now is way too good to waste.

Dean’s tight ass is swallowing Sam’s cock whole, and if he could get his hands on his phone right now, he’d be filming the fuck out of this. If they don’t die, that would make a hell of a souvenir.

As Dean picks up the pace and rides Sam like a fucking pony, Sam’s eyes cross and he has to lunge forward and grip his brother’s shoulders or he’s going to be spilling every drop and landing flat on his ass. “Dean, s-s-slow down.”

Dean’s head is spinning from the lack of oxygen in the room, and he can barely see for all the dust and debris sticking to his eyelids, but he’s got enough wherewithal to huff a laugh and force himself to speed up. “Hell fuckin’ no.”

Sam lets his forehead slide between Dean’s shoulder blades as his brother drags moan after moan from his raw throat, and it’s not long before Sam’s entire body begins to thrum with the need to come.

A man can only take so much and when Dean pulls almost all the way off and twists his hips like a damned belly dancer before slamming back against Sam’s thighs, Sam’s nails gouge half moon-marks out of flesh through the thin layer of cotton covering it and he shouts loud enough to half deafen both of them. “Fuck, DEAN!”

Dean feels Sam’s cock pulse once before there’s a sensation of fullness and hot sticky strings of come dribbling down the backs of his legs.

Sam’s vision swims and his head feels like it might float off of his neck. His entire body is lighter than air and there’s a burning sensation rippling up and down his spine.

Turns out lack of air is good for something, at least.

It’s only when Sam slumps forward, leaning his full weight on Dean’s back and shoulders, that Dean grabs his own cock and pumps his fist as hard as he can.

The dust gathered on his sweaty palm almost rips a layer of skin off his dick, but Dean doesn’t care. All he wants is to come whilst Sam’s cock is still inside him, and it’s with a roar worthy of any wild animal that Dean finally blows his load against the wall and slams his head into it to stop the both of them hitting the deck like a ton of bricks.

As Sam struggles to right himself by pushing against Dean’s back, he hears a sharp intake of breath and is suddenly painfully aware that they aren’t alone in the Bunker. “Crap.”

Dean allows Sam to use him as a leaning post whilst tucking himself away and wiping his hands on his jeans. “You realised we have an audience, huh?”

Sam rolls his eyes at Dean’s flippant tone and clears his throat before shouting up towards the stairwell. “Toni, you there?”

The sound of Toni’s dainty feet running away as fast and as quietly as possible makes Sam and Dean almost collapse in a fit of laughter, which causes them both to cough and splutter.

“Blaze of glory, huh?”

“Blaze of glory.”

“Son of a bitch!”


End file.
